Just finished season 1 of My Dad Wrote a Porno. I mean…wow. I haven’t laughed that hard at a podcast in…ever? If you haven’t listened to it, here’s the summary from the site:
“Imagine if your dad wrote a dirty book. Most people would try to ignore it - but not Jamie Morton. Instead, he decided to read it to the world in this groundbreaking comedy podcast. With the help of his best mates, James Cooper and Alice Levine, Jamie reads a chapter a week and discovers more about his father than he ever bargained for.”
Jamie’s dad, pseudonymed Rocky Flintstone, likely wrote this book, Belinda Blinked, thinking he was truly penning sexy erotic fiction that would arouse his readers. But it ended up being a hilarious comedy, with each line mirroring this gem from one of the final chapters:
"The Duchess stood up and stretched her cramped body. Her nipples hardened with her feeling and they were now as large as the three inch rivets which had held the hull of the fateful Titanic together.”
Three inch nipples. Hot. Rocky’s son and his friends publicly roasted every single phrase in the book over months…and based on comments from Jamie, it seems as if Rocky loved every minute of it.
This makes me think of the 2017 film, The Disaster Artist, which (enter Wikipedia quote) “chronicles the unlikely friendship between budding actors Tommy Wiseau and Greg Sestero, which results in the production of Wiseau's 2003 film The Room, widely considered one of the worst films ever made.” Tommy allegedly made the movie thinking it would be a serious drama, but it ended up being a comedy cult classic. Over time, Tommy, much like Rocky Flintstone, truly began to embrace this unintentional new genre.
When we create art, often we have a grand, and sometimes stubborn, vision for how others will and should receive it. At least I do. But maybe it’s helpful to stop taking ourselves and our art so seriously and accept the reception we receive, even if people completely mock what we put out. I mean, hey, at least they are paying attention. And laughing.